


Outlast Sanity

by moonhaven



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU - Outlast Video Game, Character Death, Horror, M/M, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Video & Computer Games, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:53:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonhaven/pseuds/moonhaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski is an investigative reporter, and his newest assignment is Mount Substantial Asylum. He gets about a thousand times the story that he thought that he was going to get. Derek Hale, has been in the asylum for ten years, and he's not entirely there. The two of them team up to try and survive, try to get out of there. </p>
<p>Based on the horror video game, Outlast</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Entrance

When Stiles Stilinski received a letter from a mental asylum that he had never even heard of, he was wary. He was an investigative journalist, but he had never considered himself to be one that would go into an insane asylum and search around for a shocking story. That's what he did, truly shocking stories that frightened people. Like the one about women in the Congo, or the fad of beating homeless men senseless including an elderly man with Schizophrenia. But he kept the letter, unopened with only the return address revealing the location of the mail.

It took a month, before one late night at work, he finally decided that he was ready to read whatever he had been sent. It wasn't a particularly long letter, a very straight to the point person had written this to him.

 

_Dear Stiles Stilinski,_

_After reading your expose on the homeless attacks in your area, I bring you a new case that I hope that you will take. I am a business owner that had a wife go to Mount Substantial Asylum. She died seven months ago. I know this is really strange, and normally these types of things aren't admitted out loud._

_But there is something wrong there. I was never there for very long, and in the female wards it was a lot better. But there are people all over the place. Weird dream therapies that they do, just... Not right, and I know it. I never once saw a nurse, and only saw a few doctors. Please investigate, please expose them._

_Sincerely, Benjamin L. Foster_

 

It had been a while since he had popped the lid to something as big as this. An scandal like this in the United States was rare, and it had been a long time since a mental asylum had been under such scrutiny. A smile came onto Stiles' face as he stood up from where he was sitting, grabbing his bag and putting things into his bag.

A camera, because he needed to keep track of everything that he saw in the place. A notebook, for things that he was thinking while he was making his way. Plenty of batteries, he wasn't sure how long he would be at the place, but he hoped long enough to get the story.

It took roughly three hours to get to the asylum, and when he arrived, he knew that this was going to involve a lot more sneaking then he originally thought. The main gates were empty, and there was no one around as he made his way past the guard station. 

Pulling his camera out, he flipped it to the night vision setting. He looked around, a frown on his face as he breathed in deeply. There were army vehicles, although they had leaves on them, which made him think that they had been there for a long time. It was eerie, the place was silent, with the exception of the occassional rumble of thunder in the distance. 

"This better be good." He whispered to himself, shaking his head as he made his way to the front door.  There was no doorbell, and the doors seemed to be made out of incredibly thick wood. He knocked, as though that would help, and he heard absolutely nothing from within the thick walls. He tried to open the door, but it was firmly locked and most likely bolted as well. 

From his small knowledge about psychiatric facilities, he knew that this was uncommon. Late night admissions were common, this was something that he was sure of. Through his own experience with his mother, he knew that this was what happened. 

He wrote down a quick note

_This place seems haunted, I don't think there's a better way to describe it. I have the overwhelming urge to leave, run and not look back at this place. But at the same time, I love cracking puzzles, this is one that I definitely want to at least attempt_.

After a few moments of walking around the outer wall of the building, he groaned to himself. After two floors of scaffolding, there was an open window. The only open window on the accessible area that he was in. It seemed too perfect, and it was slightly terrifying. But, it was a way in, and it wasn't as though this was the skeeviest way that he had done things. 

There was the potential of getting into trouble for sneaking in. His lawyer was well trained in how to get him out of these situations. It also didn't seem as though there was actually anyone at the facility anymore. It just seemed abandoned, he wondered if in the month that he had gotten the letter, that the place had just shut down.

The scafolding held his weight, climbing carefully up the ladders until he was faced with the darkness inside of the building. That feeling hit him again, and he was about to get off, call it a night. Go to a motel maybe, and try to sort his life out and get his priorities straigt.

But the loud crack of thunder had him jumping inside, and good timing too. The scafolding he had been standing on was hit by an incredibly powerful bolt of lightening. It cracked, the beam that he had been walking on and with a loud crash, it fell to the ground. He sat under the windw and breathed in deeply. Stiles was in a stunned silence, a rare thing for him.

He had to get out of there, he had to find a way out of the asylum and back to the car. He didn't want to be there, he didn't need proof that the man was one hundred percent correct about things being wrong with the place. He just knew that it was the truth.

Stiles' breath was shaky, his heart racing inside of his chest as he stared at the wall opposite him. He got up carefully after about five minutes, turning his camera on again and looking through the night vision. The room was messy, obviously, and most likely a supply closet.  There was nothing of great interest or value in the room. 

His pace was slow, going to the door and pushing it open. The lights were brighter in the hallway, which gave him some surprise. He shook his head a bit and studied it closer. Blood, there was actual most likely human blood on the walls. His stomach churned and he started to push ahead, into the messy and uncared for hallway. 

Stiles made mental notes of everything as he went down the hallway, ignoring some of the noises that he heard in the rooms that he passed. The surprising realization that he was ignoring his job hit him, he never did that. But for once he was regarding his own personal safety and putting the job second. Nobody knew that he was being a coward and running with his tail between his legs. Lydia never knew about it, so she couldn't rant at him to go back and do the job properly. At that moment, even Lydia's possibly impending wrath was something he would risk.

The hallway emptied out to a horse shoe shapped hallway, and directly below was the exit, at least he hoped it was.

"Help..." The voice was quiet, as Stiles entered a room, thinking it was the stairs. Stiles froze, looking around for the person thta had made the noise. He rose the camera up and felt the bile starting to build up in the back of his throat. 

The tan skinned man was impaled through the hip and up through his right shoulder. He looked at Stiles with such desperate and pleading eyes. He had on a military armor, but that had clearly not helped him when he had fallen through the ceiling. 

"Who are you?" Stiles asked cautiously as he made his way towards the man. There was no way that Stiles could help him, impaling wasn't somethingthat could generally be saved from.

"I'm Captain Scott McCall... We came here after a report from a man about his son... Something was here with us, something is here with us. It killed almost everyone. I think the only one still alive is the man we brought in here, he knew one of the patients and knew the way round." The man said, somehow finding the energy to speak as blood squirted from his shoulder and onto the ground. "You need... To get help. Stop this."

"How do I get out?" Stiles asked, looking at the man and then around the dark room for a moment. He heard silence, and when he looked back at where Scott was hanging, he realized he wouldn't get an answer. He whispered a prayer quietly under his breath, figuring it was the best that he could do for the man he had only known for a few seconds. 

People were dying, and there was a good chance that he would be next. 

He shut the camera off, stuffing it into his bag and making a break for the door. He saw the sign of the stairs, it was on the other side of a few beds leaning against the wall. Stiles began to squeeze through, his heart beating faster. There was a story, but one he could tell when he got all the facts from a police raid and an ending to this place.

Stiles didn't even hear the man come up behind him. He was large, bigger than the average human. He was shirtless, muscles bulging from him as he grabbed a hold of the back of Stiles' shirt, lifting him up. 

"Not yet." The man growled, his eyes were practically pure white as he looked up at Stiles. A panicked scream lodged itself into his throat as he was thrown, actually thrown by the man. He was vaguely aware of his back being cut up with glass, and falling several feet to the ground below. He was out, darkness swallowing him up


	2. Explain

Stiles slowly began to raise through the darkness that had swalowed him up. The pain was immense, it felt as though it was splitting open. His eyes fluttered open slowly, a shaky breath leaving him. The world above him swam, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment. He was aware of someone moving around him, and he stayed still. His great fear was that it was the man that had thrown him. So he pretended to be dead, figuring it was his best bet. 

But the voice that he heard, was not the same as the man that he had heard the last time. It quite a bit gentler and was nowhere near a growl that the large man had given out. His brain was still scrambled enough that he didn't understand what he said, his eyes opening as he looked up at the man.

The man was probably a bit taller than Stiles. His hair was a light brown and the small bits of beard that he had were darker.  The man's eyes were a startling blue, and there were dark bags under his eyes. "A prophet. My vey own." 

"What?" Stiles managed to say, but it came out as more of a gasping whimper. The man tilted his camera towards the younger man laying on the ground.  Stiles was too weak to try and reach out and snatch it away from him. 

"There is so very much that you much witness before you leave." The man whispered, nodding his head as he set the camera onto Stiles' chest. Stiles looked at him with blurry confusion, studying his face. He didn't entirely understand what was going on. "I want you to see everything, see all the  miracles. Then you can be free. Fly safe, my son."

Stiles lay on the ground, in a stunned silence as he looked at the way that the man had left, and then up towards the area that he had been thrown out of. He started to move a bit, groaning to himself. "What the honest  _fuck_ _?"_

"Don't ask, no one really knows." A voice came from behind him, and honestly Stiles was so tired of having the shit scared out of him every five seconds in thie place. "But if you do it, you might just get the chance to get out of here, get us both out of here... I don't think anyone else in the asylum is mentally here enough to know that there is an outside."

Stiles turned himself so that he was looking at the man, who as leaning against the walland watching him with a grumpy expression on his face. He seemed... Sane. He wasn't talking in riddles, which Stiles rather appreciated at that moment. He was also handsome, and Stiles was kind of a sucker for that. He was taller than Stiles, but not by much. Dark hair, dark beard, and green eyes. 

"Who was that? Who was the guy that threw me out the window? What the fuck is going on?" Stiles demanded, standing up on shaky legs and changing the batteries on his camera when he saw that the light had gone red. 

"That's Peter Hale. He's under the delusion that he's a priest, or some kind of Christian product. The guy that threw you down here, was Vernon Boyd... I'd stay away from him. They used all the wrong testing on him." THe man said, the grumpy frown still on his face as he advanced towards him. I've been here for... Two weeks? I think at least that. I have no idea, but it's nothing that happens naturally."

Stiles nodded his head, glad that he had at least two pieces of information. He quickly wrote down what the other said, including that Peter Hale wasn't going to be allowing him to leave unless he got what he wanted. Whatever that was, there had to be more than just witnessing whatever it was. He paused at the end, and looked up. "Who are you?"

"Derek." The male said curtly,  clearly not willing to pass out anymore information than what he had just given. This was perfectly fine with Stiles, Derek was helping him, or at least he hped that he would. 

"Anyone else I need to worry about?" He asked, nodding upwards to where he had fallen. He was hopeful, at least, that the other male would be willing to not leave him to do this on his own. Then again, he did seem as though  he wanted to leave just as bad as Stiles did.

"Aiden and Ethan, they seem sane but they'll kill you in a heartbeat. Doctor Deaton... Also someone that when you hear them, they seem sane, but he enjoys people he considers to be his patients. I don't think he was ever a doctor here." Derek moved forward and studied his frame, looking dubious. "Isaac Lahey, the Rider. That's more complicated than I would like to explain, so we can skip him."

Stiles nodded his head as he looked at the other, breathing in deeply. "Well... I'm Stiles, I'm a journalist. Is there... Was there a patient here, a female patient...-" He asked, looking baffled when he was cut off immediately. 

"The female patients aren't a part of this. I don't know where they went, or if they even technically got out. But they aren't here. I haven't... You have to understand that none of the men have seen a woman in a long time." He said, sounding a bit uncomfortable as he spoke. 

Stiles didn't have to be a genius journalist to figure out what that meant. It sent a shiver up his spine, as he looked around with his arms crossed over his chest. He then looked over at Derek. "Are you going to help me?" He asked, demanding that much from him. 

The older man was silent for a moment before solemnly nodding his head. "You'll be lost in five seconds and you'll most likely get eaten by the brothers." He said, clearly having no faith in Stiles and whatever ability he might have to fend himself off. "It's better to hide, than anything else. They're not entirely human, they're freakishly strong." He explained, seeing the expression on Stiles' face. 

Stiles nodded his head once again, quickly writing that down. He could practically feel Derek's eyes  rolling once again. 

He blinked a few times, before glancing upwards, frowning when he noticed that the lights had begun to dim quite a bit. He looked over at Derek and raised an eyebrow as he looked at him. It didn't make him feel all that great when he saw that Derek looked as nervous as he felt. 

"What's going on?" He asked, and as the words left his mouth, the lights went out completely. He fought back a scream that threatened to escape him. He scrambled for his camera, and jumped as he felt a hand grab his. 

"Turn that thing on, we need to go into the basement. It is not a good idea to walk around in the dark here." He murmured with a sigh, and Stiles nodded his head. He looked through the night vision and sighed to himself once again. 

"This is going to eat through my batteries, so... We have to be really quick." He sighed to himself. He breathed in deeply, not entirely eager to make his way to the basement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Still unbetaed3

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry! I don't have a beta3
> 
>  
> 
> Yis Scott died that fast, but I didn't want to make him a bad guy and I kind of wanted to make him someone that tried to help Stiles. 
> 
> And yes, Boyd is the giant ass guy that grabs him.


End file.
